Finding Alexi
by Madisonne
Summary: Its been years since the wars and nothing's really the same. Warnings: Violence, language, reference to citrus-y situations.


Finding Alexi

Part One of the Untitled Series 

By: Madisonne

Part: 1/?

Warnings: Angst-y, hopeful (?), slight reference to citrus-y situations

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does NOT belong to me... (Damn, damn, damn...) No infringement on the rights of the owners of said anime intended. Don't sue me, suing isn't nice. As for the fic, don't steal it! Criticism accepted (feed me feed-back at Fire_Elf_Rei@hotmail.com!!!), flames laughed at.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Alan Gareth looked over the folder his secretary had given him earlier in the day. Perusing it once more, he sighed and tossed it aside, turning into his own head for the answer. 

There was no question that this man was the best in his field. He had never lost a case, never even came close. But he was expensive. Very expensive. 

Alan sighed and clicked on the intercom to talk to his secretary. "Get Mr. Paterouzki on the phone." He clicked the pen he was holding on the cherry wood surface of his desk, then he sat bolt upright as the intercom sprung to life. "This is Gareth, I wanted to know if you still wanted the man, he's rather expensive... Well, yes, he was very highly recommended, and if you don't mind me being a little personal, his past employers regard him very well... They say he's the best that money can buy... Yes sir, I'll do that right away." Alan clicked off the intercom. 

The door opened and his secretary walked in. "Mr. Gareth?"

Alan looked up. "Hmm?"

"Would you like me to try and contact the man?"

"Uh, no, I think it would be best if I talked to him."

* * * * * 

The man looked down at his watch with a bit of impatience. The group he was expecting was almost ten minutes late, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could make the plane wait. He disliked people who were not prompt. It made everything else get off schedule, and, in his line of work, that could be dangerous. 

Then, a group of three men and two women stepped onto the plane. He allowed the women and the first man to be ushered into the plane before stepping into the path of the other two men. "Mr. Davydov I presume?"

The first man's head shot up at the mention of his name.

"Yes, you remember me. And I certainly remember you. You were being tracked by a mutual friend, whom you, unfortunately, disemboweled."

The man scowled. "What do you want?"

"I'm not here to gain some retribution for that day."

The man scowled again. "My question remains."

He smiled conversationally, "Did you know that capture and abduction is a criminal offense?"

The second man's hand snuck towards his not-too-well concealed weapon at his side.

Grinning, he pulled out his well-used Kalashnikov. "I really wouldn't if I were you." He looked over his shoulder. "You three, get out of here."

The captured man led the two captured women out of the plane. 

"Good bye Mr. Davydov." He smiled sweetly and proceeded to shoot them both in the head. Stepping over the bodies, he melted into the hysterical crowd fleeing the airplane. Jogging a couple of steps, he reached the limo that he had instructed to wait for him. He slid into the vehicle and slammed the door after himself. "To the hotel." He instructed the driver.

He watched the scenery whiz by with a semi-bored look on his face. 

The ringing of his cell phone pierced the silence. He snapped the metal contraption open. "Hello? Yes this is he... Yes I understand, but you must know that I don't take cases now unless they interest me... Yes that would be fine. Seven? I'll be there."

He slid the glass separating him from the driver. "Make tracks, Darien, I have an appointment."

* * * * * 

Dressed in a black suit, the man stepped out of the elevator and headed for the hotel's dining room. He slid past the mater'd and looked for the person he'd spoken to that afternoon. Seeing the man seated at a table near one of the large bay windows, he strode over to the table and seated himself.

The man already seated there jumped almost inperceivably at the movement. "Ah, I see you have found me, sir."

"Please, call me Treize."

The man frowned slightly. "Are you sure you should respond to that name in such, uh, unsecured locations?"

Treize laughed, already amused by the psuedo-spy reactions of the man across from him. "What, here? They all know me here, most by name."

"Well, as you know, I called you here to discuss a possible case. We came to you first, seeing as you are hailed as the most successful private investigator out there..."

Treize smiled at the praise. "Why certainly, that's only natural."

"I'm a representative of a world-renowned drug company, Trexil; perhaps you are familiar with it?"

"Vaguely." Treize sipped the wine that had been poured for him before his entrance. 

"Unfortunately, we have had a security break. A new worker accidentally entered one of our labs that was on restricted territory. He was very... Upset by what he saw there, and fled the facility. We have reasons to believe he's hiding in New York City. What we want you to do is find him and bring him back. If it's not possible to retrieve him, we want you to terminate him."

Treize sighed. "What kind of laboratory did he enter?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but that information is the property of Trexil. Listen, it's important that this is done sooner rather than later."

"You've seen my list of what I have, so affectionately, named my demands?"

The man nodded. 

Treize searched the man's eyes for any signs of reaction to his rather lengthy list of things his service would require to potential employers. "Is it satisfactory?"

"Yes, sir."

Treize smiled. His skills were very much in demand and were therefore very costly. As it was, he could probably split his savings and give a portion to thirteen people, and they'd all live as millionaires for the rest of their lives. He didn't need the money anymore, so he liked to choose cases for aesthetical purposes now. He was fed up with the bullshit assignments the elderly would give him, like having their daughters or sons followed to make sure they weren't harmed. 

"So, if you'd like, shall we make this a deal?"

Treize pretended to ponder it. "Fine."

"Great! Your flight to New York City leaves from the port at seven tomorrow morning." The man handed him a data disk. "On this, you'll find more information about the case. Oh, and here's my number, in case anything goes wrong. Just ask for Alan Gareth." The man handed over a business card with block black print on it. "And, on a more personal note, I'd really like to thank you for taking this case. You may have saved me my job." He shook the private investigator's hand and exited the restaurant. 

Treize sat back in his chair, finishing off the wine in the wine bottle that the waiter had left behind. He threw down a one hundred dollar bill on the table and headed for his hotel room to try and sleep some before his early departure the next morning.

* * * * * 

Treize waited for the stewardess to announce that the plane had past the barrier in which all electronics would be fried if they were used in, and once she had, he pulled out his laptop. Clicking for the retinal scan to begin, he lowered his eyes to the level of the laptop's side. He tried not to blink as a red laser passed over his eyes. 

The computer chimed and he opened the laptop. He worked quickly, typing in his coordinates and the latest information he had amassed into his computer. He then pulled out a set of headphones with a microphone attached and hooked them over his ears. He slid in the data disk he'd been given the night before.

Almost immediately, the screen went blank and a picture of a middle-aged man appeared. He began to talk to Treize.

"Hello, sir. We here at Trexil are very happy that you have confirmed your alliance with our company for this case. Our troubles began three months ago when we employed a young man by the name of Axileger Iyekovich..."

* * * * * 

After a flight of near eight hours, the plane touched down at LaGuardia in New York City. Its rather sleepy occupants exited the plane via a skywalk, and proceeded to the main building. One man in particular was very alert, looking very eager. He went to the baggage claim and picked out a nondescript black travel bag. 

He then proceeded to the passenger pick up. He scanned the line of cars waiting for a black limousine, and when he'd found it, he knocked on the driver's window. "I'm sorry, but is this the transport to England?"

The driver looked him over. "Are you going to catch the flu?"

"I heard there's only the Irish variety now."

The driver smiled. "Very good, Treize. Go ahead."

Treize smiled back, walked to the passenger part of the limousine and got in. 

* * * * * 

Treize was upset. Well, make that _very_ upset. He'd been on the case for more than two weeks and nothing had turned up, except for a false accusation that had something to do with a rather thin man of Irish descent who was now convinced Treize was insane...

He seethed inwardly, sitting in his hotel room. True, the company that had employed him was paying for his extravagant lifestyle, but he just couldn't bear the thought that someone was actually out there that could avoid him. 

He was so upset that he didn't even hear the metallic click emanating from the other side of the door, and he was caught off guard as the door swung open, revealing two masked figures. 

Treize jumped at the unexpected event and was in a half daze as he raised his hands above his head, signaling his surrender. The two men walked into the room, but, unfortunately for them, they did not know that an unarmed Treize was just as dangerous as an armed one. Treize dealt a blow to the stomach to the first and a kick to the jaw to the other. 

A scrapple for life ensued, when the other two men, sensing defeat, retreated out of the room, and when observing that they were being followed by a very pissed off Treize, jumped out the window of the top floor of the fifteen level hotel. 

Treize slid to a halt twenty feet from the window, shuddering at the thought of how the men must have died. He retreated to his hotel room and began to pack, concurrently speaking with the contacts at Trexil via the use of a head set.

* * * * * 

Treize was settled into his new room at one of the finest hotels in New York City. He had found it necessary to switch his living arrangements after his near death experience. He sighed as he settled in for the night, promising himself that he would rise early to hopefully find the ever elusive Axileger Iyekovich. 

* * * * * 

Treize hadn't found out as much as he had hoped to about the case that day, although he had made a very successful shopping trip to Armani which he funded, with a certain amount of delight, through the Trexil credit card he'd been issued. 

Dressed in a new outfit of black pants and a deep brown turtleneck shirt, he made his way down to the restaurant, where he was recognized instantaneously and seated at his usual table in the center of the restaurant. Treize liked that seat because there were very few people seated behind him, he could see near everyone, and when they sponsored entertainment, which the restaurant often did, he could see it all clearly from his seat. 

He had arrived at the restaurant about thirty minutes before the hotel started its real dinnertime, when the majority of the hotel patrons and some outsiders would pour in for the food, wine, and entertainment. He, still, was not bored, and enjoyed the food and wine very much. 

As he was finishing up, the core of the dinner parties had began their meals, and Treize was having some difficulty staying awake and thinking clearly as he started to feel the effects of his demanding schedule and the wine he had full heartedly enjoyed. The entertainment was starting to trickle in as he stood up to leave, a dancing troupe of about ten women and three men. 

As he nonchalantly placed a few hundred dollar bills on his table, he caught a glimpse of familiar looking blond hair. Shaking off the feeling, he decided that he must be too tired and too drunk to function normally anymore and took his leave to his room. 

Once there, he booted up his computer, intent on scanning the little information he'd been given and the information that he had been able to coax out of less than reliable sources.

He was still working four hours later, around twelve in the morning, typing furiously, when a knock rattled his door and caused him to jump visibly. He slid silently out of his seat and picked up his Kalashnikov from the table on which his laptop was sitting. He slunk over to the door, yanking it open, pulling in the very surprised visitor, and shutting the door, all with very little amount of noise. 

He threw the startled visitor up against the wall, his right hand holding the cloth of their cloak and forcing the person to stay there. Surprisingly enough, the visitor turned captive didn't struggle at all, not even when Treize held his Kalashnikov against the person's head. 

"What do you want?" Treize growled.

"I'm so sorry, sir, they sent me here to see you. I'm very sorry, sir."

Treize frowned. "Who sent you?"

"The hotel managers."

Treize decided to believe the shaking person, and released his grip on the cloak and stepped away, putting his gun in the holster that was strapped to his waist. "I'm... Sorry. I didn't know who you were and I'm afraid I'm rather suspicious, but with good reason." He motioned for the person to sit down at the table on which he had set up his laptop. "Forgive me. Now, what did you want?" He sat down across from the person who had their head bowed. 

"Th-they asked me t-to come up here and see... If you ne-wanted anything..." The person started to stutter, obviously very nervous and quite scared.

Treize puzzled over the answer he had been given, wondering why they hadn't just phoned up to his room if they believed he was in need of anything. Then, with a bit of revulsion, he realized what the underlying meaning of the statement was. "Christ, what made them think that... That I could..." He shuddered as he looked over at the hooded figure, which he could tell, even through the cloak, was shivering slightly, and looked vastly undernourished. He stood up and walked over to the person. He was saddened in a way that words couldn't describe as the person leaned away from him, an unconscious act on the person's behalf. "I'm not going to take advantage of anyone that way. Especially you, as you look more like a child than anything. The very thought disgusts me."

The cloaked figure gave an almost inperceivable sigh of relief at the speech given by the stranger. 

Treize began to help the figure out of the chair out of kindness, when something occurred to him. "Actually," He began, standing up again, then hastening on with his sentence, seeing the figure shrink back, scared of what the next thing the man might say. "Do you mind if..." He knelt down in front of the figure and reached toward the hood of the person. 

When the person did nothing to stop him, he proceeded to pull back the hood of the cloak, revealing a ice-blond haired man with sad eyes. He was pale and looked as if he had been malnourished for a while and a light purple bruise was visible on the right side of his face, as if he'd been hit days before. 

All at once, Treize recoiled back a bit, scarcely believing his eyes. "Zechs?" He asked.

The man jumped visibly, looking up for the first time at the person in front of him. "How d-did you know t-that name?"

"Zechs? It's me, Treize."

All of the sudden, recognition flitted over the man's face. "But, I thought you were dead..."

Treize laughed. "You and about the rest of the world. Actually, it was quite fortunate, considering what might have happened if anyone had actually recognized me as myself. Most people just think it's either a self-imposed title or a chance coincidence. And, as you can tell, I've changed since the end of the war." This was undoubtedly true, he had lost weight, his hair had darkened, and he had allowed it to grow about three inches longer, the effect of which he particularly liked.

During Treize's long diatribe, the man had grown whiter, horrified of what Treize must think of him now. He quickly stood up, and started for the door, planning on a hasty retreat. He was stopped, however, by Treize's hand, which caught his arm. 

"Please don't go. I'd like to talk to you. We have so much to catch up on, and things like that. I was hoping we could have a regular reunion."

The man still attempted to pull away, afraid of what Treize might say, or do, once he found out what he'd been degraded to doing to keep alive. He was also afraid that his facade of uncaring might also come undone if he was made to share his experiences with an old friend. 

"Please, stay." Treize pleaded. "You're the first person I've met since the war to whom I could talk freely about that and other things. Please don't leave me here to relive it all on my own!" Treize's voice started to get an edge of hysteria.

This was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back for the man. He began to sob, letting himself begin to slide to the floor, using his uncaptured hand to muffle his sobs, as if that would keep him safe from everything. 

Treize was momentarily stunned at the collapse of his friend, pulling him half-way to the ground. When he had finally clicked into reality, he pulled his old friend back up, letting his grip on the thin arm go, and tentatively, self-consciously, pulling the man to him, holding him in a light embrace. He felt the sobs and shivers emanating from the young man who was resting his head on Treize's chest. 

It was a full twenty minutes before the man had calmed down enough to be able to sit on his own. Treize led him to one of the room's couches, urging him to sit, and at the same time, pulling a chair over from one of the corners of the room. He sat across from the previously sobbing man, wishing he knew how to comfort him. 

The man sighed one last time, finally obtaining control over his raging emotions and smiled painfully at Treize. "Thank you... I've just been bottling all this up for so long, I guess I didn't know how much it hurt anymore..." He looked down at his hands. 

Treize smiled. "Go on."

"Well, for one thing, Zechs is dead."

Treize frowned, puzzled by the enigma that was sitting in front of him.

"Well, maybe not in the conventional way... Zechs was more of a time than a person, and I've found that I have changed in very many ways since the time of Zechs. I now go by the name of Alexi."

Treize nodded, indicating that he understood.

"After the war, well... I was lost. I didn't know where to go or what to become to support myself. I'm sad to say that I drifted for a rather long time. I ended up here in New York City, where I work both as a bartender and a dancer. Both rather spontaneous job offerings, given to me only a week ago." Alexi looked up and smiled. "But I see you've done rather well for yourself."

Treize nodded. "After the war, I didn't really have anything that I was good at that I could do, I went around basically spending the money I had amassed during the war lavishly. Then, a friend asked me to do a favour for him and investigate the disappearance of one of his sons, leading me to my job as a private investigator."

Alexi smiled appreciatively. "I wish I had thought of that..."

"I'm rather glad you didn't."

Alexi frowned, confused.

"Oh, not that I don't wish you to become one, it's just that I'd hate to see us have been employed by rival people and had been reunited under the circumstances that one of us was going to die. Besides, I have the distinct notion that I would have been the one dying." 

Alexi smiled, Treize's flattery of his fighting skills silly in his view. 

Treize laughed, then yawned. "Well, I'm afraid, Alexi," He stressed the name, teasing him. "That I will fall asleep on my feet if I have to stay up any longer. Can I see you tomorrow to talk again? This time, please, at a more reasonable time?"

Alexi stood up and headed for the door. "How does three sound? Meet me in the lobby."

Treize nodded. "That's fine. Goodbye Alexi." He shut the door behind his old friend and went to shut down his laptop for the night.

* * * * * 

Alexi smiled as he left his old friend's room. He was grateful for the chance, however short, to unleash his bottled up emotions. He made it only halfway down the hall when he noticed a tall man leaning against the wall, scowling at him. "Christ, I'm sorry David, I tried."

The man pushed off the wall, stalking menacingly towards him. "Tried isn't good enough. You were given a job, and you failed in it. A pity, really, you had shown great promise on other nights."

Alexi bore the shame the statement the man had said with clenched teeth. "Have you even considered that maybe he wasn't interested?"

David glared at him. "I thought that was your job, to make them interested."

Alexi sighed, knowing that David was right. "I'm sorry. I tried."

David snarled and threw a punch at him, hitting him hard in the stomach. 

Alexi knew from experience not to try to protect himself from the barrage of blows he would be subjected to, and tried his best not to scream.

* * * * * 

Treize had taken off his shirt and was finishing brushing his teeth when he heard a muffled scream echo into his room from the hallway. Frowning slightly, he decided to ignore it, figuring that it was just a television set. But, as the screaming didn't die down, he became suspicious and made his way to the door, cracking it open, at first, seeing nothing but hallway. Then, he stepped out of his hotel room and into the hall and saw a gruesome scene. 

A tall man with a demonic look in his eyes was punching a young person over and over again, keeping them restrained against the wall with one palm. As he neared the scene, he realized that the person being punched was Alexi. He snarled in contempt for the man who was hurting his friend. He caught the man off-guard and delivered a disabling kick to the man's jaw. The man crumpled to the ground, barely breathing. 

Treize turned his attention to the man that had been beaten, who was, for the second time that night, slowly sliding to the floor. Cursing softly, Treize slung the unfortunate's arm around his shoulder and half carried, half dragged him into his room, first making sure that no one was in the hallway to see them. 

He placed the young man on a couch in the first room of his hotel suite and went to get ice from the kitchenette in the next room. When he returned, the man was sitting with his hands on his knees, panting ever so slightly from the wounds that had been inflicted upon him. 

Treize left the ice beside him wordlessly and went to find one of his many first aid kits. He promptly found one in his luggage and handed it over to the man. "Do you need any help, or...?"

Alexi waved him away, using the gauze to stop the bleeding in his nose, and spread salve on the already forming bruises. 

Treize looked away as the young man removed his shirt to get to the other wounds he'd been dealt. "So, who was that?"

Alexi looked up. "The manager of the dance troupe... He was rather upset."

Treize snorted. "Well, that wins the understatement of the year award."

Alexi smiled ironically, finishing up his self-ministrations. He checked the gauze he was using to stop the bleeding in his nose, and found that the bleeding had all but stopped. He frowned. "It isn't broken, is it?"

Treize looked up. "Hmm?"

"My nose, it isn't broken, is it?"

Treize studied it. "No, I don't think so. It doesn't look broken to me."

"Good." Alexi nodded, satisfied. He packed the first aid kit back up. He handed both the first aid kit and the ice to Treize and followed him into the kitchenette to throw away the gauze he had used. "Uhm, I sort of hate to ask this... But, uhm, is there any way I could stay here tonight?"

Treize whirled back around. "Who the hell said that you were going to do anything but that?!! Christ, it would be murder to send you back out there!" 

Alexi sighed. "Thank you..."

Treize shook his head. "It's the only thing any good person could do, please, don't thank me."

Alexi nodded.

"So, uh, I guess this means your dance career's pretty much down the tubes..."

Alexi snickered. "That's putting it mildly." He looked down. "I wouldn't dare go back after that..."

Treize nodded. "Well, I'm going to be in town for a few more weeks, maybe so much as a month. You're welcome to stay with me as long as you need to, until you get back on your feet."

Alexi smiled. "Thank you..."

Treize whirled back around again, his pointing finger about three centimeters away from Alexi's nose. "As long as you're going to be staying here, let's get one thing straight. You don't thank me for any thing. It's the only thing any good person and good friend would do!"

"You consider me to be one of your friends?" Alexi asked.

Treize frowned, "Is that so hard to believe?"  
Alexi smiled, "It's just that, well, I've been on my own for a long time, and I've been without friends, and knowing that I have one is very very special..." He self-consciously patted Treize's back. 

Treize bit his lip, then pulled Alexi into a hug. "Don't you ever doubt that you don't have a friend again! No matter what happens, I'll always be proud to call you my friend."

The embrace lasted only a matter of seconds before both pulled away, rather self-consciously. 

"Well, I'm sure you must want a shower, uh, let me get you a towel..." Treize walked over to the linen closet and pulled out a towel, which he handed to his friend. "Tomorrow we'll go see what we can do about a new wardrobe for you, but for tonight I think this will have to suffice." He pulled out a loose cotton shirt and a pair of cotton shorts from his luggage. 

Alexi accepted the items with a slight bow of his head, indicating his gratitude, and went to shower. 

Treize noticed the subordinate posture his friend had taken with deep sorrow. He wondered what Alexi could have been through to cause him to be so fearful and so insecure. With a shake of his head, he went off to make sure that the doors had been bolted for the night.

* * * * * 

Alexi had to admit that the long, hot shower he had treated himself to was good for his soul. He felt calmer and more confident than he had in a long time. 

He finished his towel-drying and quickly changed into the clothes Treize had lent him. Checking to see that the shower was fully clicked off, that his towel was in the hamper, and that his hair was not too much of a mess, he walked back out of the bathroom. 

He found Treize sitting at a table in the first room, staring at his laptop's screen. He flopped into a chair opposite him. "Whatcha reading?"

Treize looked up. "Hmm? Oh, just some case backgrounds."

Alexi shrugged, indicating that he had no clue what Treize was talking about, however, Treize hadn't seen his confused gesture with his eyes darting across the laptop's screen. Alexi couldn't help but laugh at the way that Treize hadn't changed a bit since the war, and had, in fact, become more eccentric in his eccentricities. 

Treize looked up, an amused look on his face. "What?"

"You."

Treize shook his head in mock sympathy. "Man, you're more of a psych case than I had thought!" 

Alexi threw a pen that had been lying on the table at him, concurrently making a face at Treize.

Treize caught the pen without even looking up.

Alexi laughed. "Still the same lightening quick reflexes, huh?"

Treize snickered. "It's kept me alive more times than I care to think of."

Alexi nodded, while smothering a yawn. 

"Hey, you look tired, why don't you go on and hop into bed?"

Alexi looked confused. "Where are you going to sleep then?"

Treize grinned. "On the floor, as usual."

Alexi gave him a strange look.

"I told you that my line of business was a dangerous one! I sleep just beside the door to assure myself that no one will break in, even though it's virtually impossible to break in _here_."

Treize had said the word 'here' so effeminately, Alexi had no trouble discerning that break-ins had been a prior problem. "As long as you're sure..."

"Of course I am. Good night, Alexi."

Alexi smiled. "Good night."

* * * * * 

Alexi sat by the window in the pale morning light, a tradition he'd kept since soon after the war, and intended to keep. 

Looking out of the window at the dawning morn gave him a feeling of control and balance to his life, one that was certainly not based on or even close to either emotion. 

He sighed, his hair blowing slightly in the currents set out by the heater beside him. He leaned his head against the window and sat there. Simply sat there, allowing the world to just revolve at its own mad pace, wondering what life could have, or should have been.

Hours later, Treize found him at that very spot. "Hey, whatcha doing?"

Alexi turned around to smile weakly at Treize, his smile broadening as he saw how rumpled and childish the man looked. "Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty." He mocked.

Treize faked a blow at Alexi's head. "Not funny. Just because you get up and your hair is perfectly in place doesn't mean that you should tease those of us who look like messes in the morning."

"Not true," Alexi replied. "I spend at least a half an hour trying to get my hair untangled each morning. So there." He stuck his tongue out at Treize.

Treize laughed. "Rebuked. Well, I'm gonna go get a shower, but when I get out, how does breakfast and a trip to one of New York City's clothing stores sound?"

Alexi smiled. "That sounds great."

* * * * * 

Treize and Alexi had finished their breakfasts and were in quiet reflection over coffee by the time the clock struck eleven. 

Treize looked up, "Have you thought of what you might like to do?"

Alexi looked puzzled. "About what?"

"Well, what career you'd like to pursue?"

Alexi frowned and looked down at his coffee cup. "Uh, I-I don't know..."

"You mean to tell me that there was nothing you wanted to be when you grew up as a little kid?"

Alexi shook his head. "The only thing I'm somewhat good for, I can't..." He bit back a sob. "I can't even do _that_ anymore..."

Treize cursed himself for bringing up such a sensitive topic. "Shit, I'm sorry Alexi. Christ, you and I both know that that isn't what you're good for, no one should be!!! The very thought that someone could force you into doing that..."

Alexi bit his lip. "It revults you. Everything about it does."

Treize reached over to push up the chin of his dining companion. Now, seeing Alexi eye-to-eye with him, he continued. "Alexi, I don't believe you wanted to do that. I don't believe that it was right. It wasn't fair to you for anyone to ask you to do that without your permission."

Alexi nodded hesitantly.  
"Besides," Treize added, "If that was all you were good for, don't you think I would have hauled you off to bed before now?" He teased, his eyes devious.

Alexi wrinkled his nose at him and used his fork as a catapult for a small piece of toast that was left over, the food hitting Treize right between the eyes. 

Treize shook his head, momentarily stunned. Then, realizing what he had done, he tossed a few hundred dollars on the table and stood up. "You're gonna get it this time, you'd better start running!"

Taking the threat for real, Alexi laughed and bolted out of the restaurant, pursued by a laughing Treize. After he had gotten out of the restaurant, he hid in the doorway of an apartment building. He watched as Treize skidded to a stop outside the restaurant, looking confused as to where he'd gone. 

Alexi was just about to jump out and scare Treize when the door opened inwards, bowling him into the person who'd opened it, a rather imposing looking woman, who all but growled at him. Shocked and rather hysterical, Alexi tumbled down the stairs and ran into Treize, literally. 

They both had to struggle to keep from being toppled over, trying to release themselves from the laughing fit that they had been thrown into. They managed to make it down the street, but the laughter won them over. 

* * * * * 

Treize had just finished explaining to Alexi that the owners of the company he was currently working for had issued him a credit card on which he would charge all expenses of the new wardrobe Alexi required, in light of Alexi's refusal to accept Treize's charity. 

Treize had also set up an appointment for Alexi at the employment firm on Fifth and Main, where he deposited the man. He then continued on to shop for his friend.

Alexi ran up the stairs of the office and entered the secretary's office, where he waited for a employment consult to open up. 

Three hours later saw him sitting in the office of one of the employment officers, the man just finishing up the list of jobs that were available to a person of his capabilities. 

Alexi was rather upset by the small list that the man had given him. He was about to tell him so when a knock on the door interrupted him and Treize stepped into the room.

"Hi! I was just wondering what was taking you two so long!" Treize smiled winningly at the employment officer.

"I had just finished the list of jobs someone of his skills could take." The employment officer repeated courteously. He also pushed a piece of paper with the same list towards Treize, who picked it up and read it.

"That's all?!!" Treize asked in some disbelief. 

The man nodded. 

Treize sighed. "What do you think, Alexi?"

Alexi sighed. "I don't know..."

"Well, what are you looking for in a job?" The employment officer asked, leaning his elbows on the desk.

"Well, for one thing, monetary stability, uhm..."

The employment officer shook his head. "I'm not supposed to do this, but I'm going to point you in the direction that I think you should take. Now, you're a rather pretty fellow, especially when those bruises of yours clear up, and you seem to have an excellent background in dance, and you have expressed a wish for a short term job, all of which lead to a rather lucrative but highly competitive career." The man handed over a brochure.

Alexi took it and silently read the title, angling it so that Treize could read it at the same time. It was a modeling brochure. 

The employment officer smiled. "Now, I happen to like you, and I'm willing to call in a little favour if you wish to become a model. I can get you hooked up with the best. You'd be earning a very generous salary and have the perk that any outfit you wear in a show or in a shoot or even for a testing, you keep!"

Alexi looked at the brochure, then back at the officer. "I'll take it."

Treize was rather surprised, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

Alexi smiled as the officer related to him the details of what he would have to do, and sat in contentment as he called and confirmed Alexi's interview for the next day. 

Alexi bid farewell to the officer and took his leave, Treize following, stunned, behind him. Once in the hallway, Treize pulled him by the elbow into a doorway of a darkened, unoccupied consult room. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Alexi gave Treize a stunned, rather hurt look. "What? I'm accepting a job!"

"I thought that's what you hated about, well, what you did before. Only it's a visual sort of... Job..."

Alexi shook his head, "No, I'm okay with this, really, I am. Besides, this is just a temporary job. I'll be fine."

As they continued on their way back to the hotel, Treize could do nothing but promise, silently, to himself that if anyone, _anyone_, tried to hurt his friend, he'd personally dismember them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Yay! My first time writing Treize into a fic! How was it?!!

Special thanks to Robin Cook for the inspiration for Treize's character


End file.
